


Please cross at the lights, And don't start fires or fights

by CaffeineChic



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Canon, crowley says gender norms can get in the bin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24460090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeineChic/pseuds/CaffeineChic
Summary: "This brings back memories.""What, dear?""You, me, drunken paperwork on a Saturday night." So many years of lying in triplicate. So many bottles of wine. So many metres between them.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 116
Collections: Name That Author Round Four





	Please cross at the lights, And don't start fires or fights

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NTA round 4 on the GO AU discord - Prompt was Written to include the line "This brings back memories." - 500 word cap.

Crowley's legs sprawled across the angel's lap, his skirt falling around his thighs. He unpicked a perfect stitch, adjusted the hem. He liked that Aziraphale had direct access to his skin. He liked when an angelic hand ghosted over his bare legs, trailed across the hair. Liked when Aziraphale cupped his knee and dug his fingers into the tendons in the back, pressed into the muscle of his calf like he was doing now.

He twirled his pen.

"This brings back memories."

"What, dear?"

"You, me, drunken paperwork on a Saturday night." So many years of lying in triplicate. So many bottles of wine. So many metres between them.

Aziraphale tracked fingers down his leg, scraped nails across his ankle bone, ran them back to his knee. "I like this better, dear. I couldn't touch you, then."

"You could have." Crowley says it softly, an admission. It cost him nothing. "- wait why _am_ I filling out paperwork on a Saturday night?"

"Because I asked you to."

Well. Obviously. He'd do anything Aziraphale asked him to.

"No what is this _for_." Crowley had been filling out tiny squares for twenty minutes without actually reading the form.

"It - " Aziraphale paused, and Crowley felt a shift, the weight of something settling. Aziraphale pressed a thumb to the corner of his patella. "It transfers ownership of the shop to you should - should anything befall me."

"No." Crowley was standing in an instant. He untwisted his skirt. It didn't have pockets to shove his hands in. He felt exposed. "No."

"Crowley - we both know that getting a new corporation won't be possible."

"You'll just have to be careful!" He felt manic, his heart was sore. He hadn't thought this through. Christ, he was going to have to start driving the speed limit. How many rules of the road were there? 6? Couldn't be more than 6. He could follow 6 rules, to keep Aziraphale safe. "Doesn't matter anyway - I'd come for you. I’d come for you."

"You'd be destroyed on sight!"

Aziraphale said it like that was the worst thing that could happen. It wasn't even close.

"Better than - " He trailed off - looked around the shop, this carefully curated space that Aziraphale had built, and tried to imagine it without the angel. 

(He could still feel the heat from the fire, that had left his skin untouched but his heart burned through, a rotting muscle burned black and charred. It hurt when it contracted, when it relaxed.

It was still healing.

It helped when Aziraphale's hands were on his skin. 

He balled a fist into the skirt.)

"I don't want the shop, you idiot - I want _you_."

Aziraphale stood, slowly, reached out gently - encircled Crowley's wrist with his hand. "Perhaps - ” He paused “ - we could fill out the form that would make this place _ours_ \- now, instead?" A question.

Crowley leaned into him, their foreheads pressed together. A yes. "I don't know how to work the till."

"Oh, neither do I. We'll figure it out."

**Author's Note:**

> as always all the thanks to alias424 for her editing and wife-ing. 
> 
> over [ here on tumblr ](caffeinechic.tumblr.com)


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